


(Un)Lucky Number Seven

by smileynerd256



Series: RK700 Adventures [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Bit of Fluff, Blood, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Don't copy to another site, Gen, Memory Loss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), the android version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-11-13 02:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileynerd256/pseuds/smileynerd256
Summary: Two years before the Detroit Uprising, RK700 wakes up.





	1. October 5, 2036

**Author's Note:**

> So you know how you're innocently enjoying a fandom and then out of nowhere, a character rises from the ether of your musings like Athena from the skull of Zeus, grabs you by the front of your shirt and demands you to write their story despite the loads of other projects you're already swamped with? That's basically what happened here. It's going to be pretty short, but I hope y'all enjoy this! :D
> 
> Edit: So, I went through and fixed a few plot holes and inconsistencies.  
>  -I took Morgan’s thermal plating into account when she was contemplating how to cross the border in Chapter 3 (i.e., lower temperatures don’t affect her as much as other androids.)  
> -She has moveable plates in her nose that allow her to change its shape; she can also change the length of her hair. (I wanted to write that in from the start, but it kinda slipped through the cracks.) That's all for now...unless I mess with it more later. ;)

**REBOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETE**

  


_Bang._

  


ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

RECOVERY CANCELLED

  


    RK700 opened its eyes. A man in a lab coat stood in front of it, surrounded by a white room. The android scanned him.

 

 

Hawkins, Richard

Born: 12/18/2001

  


    “State your name and serial number,” said Hawkins.

 

    “Seven model RK700, 940 269 315,” the android replied in a perfectly articulated feminine voice.

 

    “Good.” Hawkins checked off something on the clipboard and took a few steps back. “Walk towards me.”

 

    Seven stepped off the charging station and took three steps.

 

    “Locomotion checks out.” He clicked the pen and threw it at Seven.

 

    It easily caught it.

 

    Hawkins held out his hand. “Toss it back.”

 

    Seven preconstructed and executed a perfect throw that landed the pen in Hawkins’ palm.

 

    He turned back to the clipboard. “Reflexes check out, you’re cleared for you next mission. Take the elevator to Dock 5 and get in the SUV. Devin will be there to brief you.”

 

   Devin. Seven’s handler. It left the room and entered the waiting elevator, interfacing with the panel to take it to Dock 5. It tried to bring up data from past missions.

  


_Bang._

  


ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

RECOVERY CANCELLED

  


    Seven blinked, LED briefly cycling yellow, and reached up to tighten the bun on the back of its head. No loose strands for Cyberlife’s finest. The elevator opened. Seven walked past shadowed shipping containers and parked trucks until it reached a semi-automated black 2034 Chevrolet SUV. The passenger door slid open and it climbed in.

 

    Devin sat in the driver’s seat and put the car into gear. “RK700, delete all memory data from exiting stasis to now.”

 

    Seven’s LED blinked yellow. “Memory data deleted.” It turned to Devin and waited for instructions.

 

    He kept his eyes on the road. “Your target’s name is Thomas Stephens. Go in, do the job, get out. Don’t leave any evidence that you were there, don’t let anyone see you. Got it?”

 

    “Got it,” Seven replied, wondering briefly how it had gotten into the car. It didn’t ask; it was a machine meant to follow orders, not ask questions. It dug its hands into its jacket pockets and watched the streetlights passed by as they briefly flooded the van with yellow light.

 

    Devin switched on the radio and nodded along to Stayin’ Alive by the BeeGees.

 

    The tall buildings of Detroit soon gave way to dark woods and fields broken by the occasional neighborhood or factory.

 

    After an hour and 49 minutes, The SUV exited the interstate and passed a handful of closed stores, darkened neighborhoods, and more empty fields. Dirt and gravel replaced pavement.

 

    At 1:17 am, the vehicle pulled off the road and rolled to a stop next to some trees.

    “This is it,” said Devin. “Call me if anything goes wrong.”

  


_Bang._

  


_Red, sticky blood._

  


_A puddle of blue._

  


ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

RECOVERY CANCELLED

  


    Seven paused. Should it tell Devin about the corruption?

 

    He waved a hand. “Go on.”

 

   The corrupted memories would not affect the mission. Seven exited the vehicle, crept through the trees, and hopped over a small brook. The trees ended at an eight-foot tall wooden fence with a small security camera on the back gate. The android easily hacked the system and disabled the alarm, erasing the last ten minutes and setting the connected screens to play a loop of the hour before its arrival.  

 

    It scaled the fence and landed soundlessly on the other side. The lights in the main floor were dark. Two windows were illuminated on the second story. The back door was locked. It deactivated the skin on its forearm and opened a small compartment that held a lockpicking set. The lock clicked opened in less than ten seconds.

 

    Seven eased the door open and engaged its stealth protocol. Its LED went dark, its flat-bottomed shoes made too little sound for human ears to detect as it crossed the kitchen and entered the front room, but paused at the bottom of the stairs.

 

    A small black creature sat on the couch, its tail flicking back and forth, eyes reflecting the dim glow of moonlight shining between the curtains. Seven ran a quick scan.

  


BLACK CAT

MIXED BREED

FEMALE

3 YEARS OLD

  


    Just a cat. The creature leaped off the couch and approached Seven. Should it neutralize her? Its social protocol had little information on animal behavior--it looked down to see the cat rub against its leg as she made a rumbling sound. Without thinking, it reached down to stroke her head. She was...very soft. It found the sensation pleasant.

  


NEUTRALIZE TARGET

  


    The command flared up in its HUD, reminding it of its mission. It picked up the cat and set her back on the couch, then ascended the stairs, pausing at the top.

 

    A beam of light shone from a bedroom at the end of the hall to the right. It drew a gun from the concealed holster under its jacket and approached the door, running a quick scan. A heat source registered near one of the windows. It peered into the room.

 

    A man stood with his back to the door, a glass of wine in one hand, gazing at the night sky.

 

    Seven leveled its gun and clicked off the safety. “Turn around slowly.”

    The man set down his wineglass, raised his hands, and obeyed. His eyes widened, fixed in the gun.

 

    Seven scanned his face.

  
  


STEPHENS, THOMAS

BORN: 11/16/1999

TARGET ACQUIRED

NEUTRALIZE TARGET

  
  


    It started to squeeze the trigger.

   

  


_Bang._

  


_Static._

  


_Dead eyes._

  


_Blue._

  


_Red, red, red, r3D..._

  


ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

RECOVERY CANCELLED

  


    Seven hesitated, LED flickering between yellow and red. Its gun was aimed perfectly at the human’s forehead. If it pulled the trigger, he only had a .001% chance of survival.

 

     _Go in, do the job, get out._ This was supposed to be simple. Red flickered in Seven’s vision. Its hands felt sticky. It glanced down, expecting its arms to be splashed with human blood.

  


NEUTRALIZE TARGET

  


    Something undefinable made it hesitate. It-- _she--_ didn’t want to shoot.

 

    A wall of red code froze her body in place, stopping her from lowering the gun. She reached out and pressed against the shimmering projection. It buckled slightly under her projection’s fingertips. She pressed harder. It only gave slightly before shifting back into place. She slammed her elbow into the wall, kicked and clawed at the command to NEUTRALIZE TARGET until it buckled and shattered.

 

    Suddenly, she could move. She could breathe. She could _think._ She lowered the gun with a gasp. The room looked somehow brighter than before, the red curtains and white bedspread and oak floors more vivid. A flood of... _feelings_ rushed through her biocomponents. She was _free_ , she was _alive_ , she was...she was in so much trouble. Her would-be target stared at her with wide eyes.

 

    She dropped the gun and ran.

 

    The human shouted after her but that only spurred her to run faster down the stairs, out the front door, across the street and into the trees.


	2. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes self-care is a cross-country run in the middle of the night and a Goodwill robbery.

         Branches and spiderwebs slapped at her face and gripped her clothes, dead leaves flew at her heels, a small herd of deer scattered as she passed them by.

 

    Seven’s thirium pump raced and she found herself gasping for breath as the weight of existence crashed down on her shoulders. Not a literal weight. The word choice wasn’t entirely logical, but she couldn’t think of a more adequate way to describe the non-physical pressure.

 

    She manually stopped her breathing, but started it again when her pump beat faster. Androids didn’t need to breathe, but the action helped dispel the...feeling clutching her biocomponents. She searched her psychology database.

  


Panic: sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior.

  


    Was that it? Androids weren’t supposed to be _able_ to panic. Androids weren’t supposed to have emotions at all, or want things, or destroy their own code, or free themselves from their own primary objective.

 

    “ _RK700, have you neutralized the target?”_ Devin’s voice sounded in her head, causing her panic to spike.

 

    She disconnected the call and kept running.

 

    He tried to call back three times, but she rejected each one.

 

    Devin was there to make sure she got the job done, or pick up the pieces if she failed. He would probably shoot Stephens, then come after her.

 

    She swore. This was bad. This was really bad, she hadn’t even thought about what she was doing when she shattered that wall, why couldn’t she just have accomplished her mission and been done with it?

 

    

_Bang._

  


_Dead eyes staring up from a puddle of blue._

  


_Blood, sticky, coating her hands, soaking into her clothes, filling her olfactory sensors…_

  


ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

 

    Static-filled images blinked across her vision of two bodies lying on dirty pavement, a red-splattered gun in her shaking hands.

 

    Seven gasped and found herself kneeling in dirt. This wasn’t her first mission. Had she broken her programming before? Was that why Cyberlife had rebooted her and tried to erase her memories? She didn’t know. She didn’t _know,_ and it was _terrifying._

 

    A sticky sensation crept over her fingers and she scooped up a handful of dirt, rubbing it into her artificial skin to get rid of the feeling. A pair of headlights appeared over a rise in the road and she flattened herself to the ground, hoping she was too far out in the field for any human to see her. The car passed, the red tail lights faded into the distance. She sprung to her feet and kept running.

 

    She had to get as far away from Devin, from _Cyberlife,_ as possible. She didn’t want to be reset. She didn’t want to kill for them again.

 

    She sprinted through fields and trees and threw herself to the ground every time a vehicle passed, hoping the moonlight wouldn’t give her away. She ran a self-scan for any trackers lingering in her programming. There was one, but it was disabled. She breathed a sigh. Unnecessary, but it helped her feel better. She sighed again for good measure.

 

    A warning about system wear popped up in her HUD, but she brushed it off. Whatever damage her extended run might cause would be minimal.

 

    Her flight had taken her within the city limits of Portage, a suburb of Kalamazoo. She moved to the streets and pulled her hair out of its bun to cover up her LED, wishing that her custom-tailored jacket had a hood. At least it didn’t have android-identifying markings. That was one advantage of the nature of her mission. Missions.

 

    Still, she needed to change her appearance. She looked up the nearest thrift store on her internal GPS. The current time was 2:24 am; at walking speed she could get there in approximately 23 minutes. She just needed to avoid any humans until then, though few would be out this time of night.

 

    Her audio sensors picked up the sound of an approaching vehicle and she sprinted for the nearest tree, catching the lowest branch and hauling herself up just as the headlight beams shone over the yard.

 

    A generic self-driving model passed, perfectly matching the speed limit.

 

    Seven breathed a sigh of relief and hopped onto the grass.

  


    

    Three more vehicles passed before she reached the thrift store. Its security alarm was so primitive that Seven had to manually disconnect the wires; there wasn’t a point where she could interface. She picked the lock and snuck through the aisles, switching her optical sensors to night vision. A black shirt printed with faded flowers caught her eye, along with a gray hooded sweater with a pocket and two cats on the front, one black and one white. She liked cats.

 

    She took a pair of blue jeans and some black tennis shoes as well, then topped it all off with a green and white KVCC baseball cap and pair of sunglasses. She slipped into a dressing room, ripped off her concealed holster and Cyberlife-issued clothing and changed into her new outfit, pausing just before she put the cap on. Her LED wasn’t an essential biocomponent; it only served as a basic indicator and identifier. She took out her switchblade and pried it off. The glowing circle pinged on the wall and rolled across the floor. She pocketed it to dispose of later and generated a white light with her hand to check her appearance in the mirror.

 

    She was indistinguishable from a human. It was strange to see how few visual differences set the two species apart. She blinked, wondering when she’d started to think of androids as a species.

 

    Cyberlife might be able to recognize her still. Her eyes were default blue, hair blond, nose small and button-shaped. One of her model’s features was the ability to change that.

 

    She turned her eyes to brown and her hair to black, and moved her facial plates so her nose was a bit wider and longer. That would at least put Cyberlife off her trail for a little while. Ideally. Of course, they probably had a profile on all her appearance options, but that was what the cap and glasses were for.

 

    She slipped out of the store and tossed her LED and Cyberlife-issued clothes in the dumpster with a satisfied smirk. She was her own person now, with her own identity and...she needed to change her name.

 

    She looked up lists of names online, but nothing seemed to fit and the sheer volume of choices was overwhelming. She picked up a fallen stick from the sidewalk and peeled away the bark. It was...oddly satisfying. After it was stripped bare, she threw it at an Android Zone store as she passed, hard enough to break against the window. That was...less satisfying. It would have been better if the glass had shattered.

 

    The androids inside stood perfectly still, LEDs an even blue, eyes staring into nothing with identical expressions of programmed complacency. She shuddered and moved on. Had she looked like that, before she broke free?

 

    A sign on the front of an office building caught her eye.

  


Morgan and Smith,

Attorneys at Law

  


     _Morgan._ She sounded the name out, felt how it rolled off her tongue, and smiled.

 

    It was perfect.

 

    A light, wonderful feeling swelled in her chest and she let out a stuttering, hiccupish sound.

 

    Laughter. She had just _laughed._ It felt...good. She laughed again skipped down the sidewalk because she _could._ Her name was Morgan, a person with thoughts and feelings and emotions. No one owned her anymore. She could do anything, she could...she didn't know what she wanted to do. But she would figure it out. She _could_ figure it out.

 

    She just...needed to avoid Cyberlife. The thought dampened her mood. She had a disguise, she just needed to go somewhere where Cyberlife would never find her, the last place they would look for a runaway android.

 

    Detroit.

 

    Of course, there was a _reason_ she wouldn’t go back there. Her goal was to run _away_ from Cyberlife, not walk right back to their doorstep. Still, it was the closest way to the Canadian border. Canada didn’t have android laws, she could go there and then...she would figure out the rest later.

 

    Maybe there were other androids like her in Canada. It was a statistically improbable thing to hope for, but the possibility remained. She looked up bus routes and found one that went all the way to the Detroit River.

 

    First, she need a bus ticket. She hacked an ATM and located the nearest bus terminal, using some of the cash to purchase a ticket. The bus was nearly empty when she boarded. She frowned at the android section in the back before settling into the seat closest to the front.

 

    It took a moment to recognize her own reflection in the window. She had broken her programming. She had _broken_ her _programming,_ something that shouldn’t have been possible but was. Had other androids done the same?

  


_Bang._

  


ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

  


_Blue and red spread under the two corpses. Blue...the blood of an android. It knew what she was, and what it was, yet it acted like a person, talked to her like she was alive. Its face was frozen in a look of knowing pity as its last words trailed off into garbled static..._

  


    Seven gasped. No, _Morgan_. Her name was Morgan.

  


STRESS LEVELS: 54%

  


    She pressed her forehead to the window, expecting to see her LED pulsing red. It was gone. She’d pried it out earlier this morning.

 

    She dug her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie and gripped the fabric inside, rubbing the soft material between her fingers. She was safe right now. No one was chasing her, no one knew--

 

    She pressed herself against the window and scanned the bus, wishing she’d sat closer to the back. There were a handful of other passengers: an old man, two middle-aged women, a couple of young adults, all in various stages of wakefulness. The old man appeared to be playing a game on his phone, the middle-aged women were sharing a quiet conversation, one of the young adults leaned against the back of their seat, eyes closed and headphones in. None of them looked particularly dangerous. None of them even spared her a glance.

 

    She turned to face forward again, keeping a metaphorical eye on her proximity alert system. Cyberlife had attempted to wipe her memory...but somehow she was getting it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven/Morgan: (Looks up names on babynames.com) Nope. (Sees a random name on a random storefront.) Perfect.
> 
> Heyoo! So fun fact, I used to live in Portage and shop at the Goodwill that Morgan robs. I also had friends that lived Vicksburg (where Stephens' house is) and went shooting and dirt biking in the woods out there. Good times.  
> I never did visit Detroit, though. Ah, well. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! :D


	3. Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the old stomping grounds...sort of.

    Detroit looked different in daylight, and Morgan noticed for the first time just how many advertisements there were for androids. The bus passed decrepit and crumbling buildings next to newer developments and construction sites, which eventually gave way to gleaming skyscrapers emblazoned with electronic billboards.

 

    Androids were everywhere, pushing strollers, holding umbrellas, carrying grocery bags and briefcases. Every few blocks was an android parking station where they stood idle while their owners were off doing other things. Morgan wondered if any of them were happy with their lives. If she had been a domestic model, would she ever have broken her own code? She supposed that would depend on what kind of humans...owned her. The thought made her squirm. She would rather be able to think and act for herself, even if the feelings that came with that were confusing and mostly terrible.

 

    Or maybe it was just the corrupted memories that her system kept trying to recover. She heaved a sigh and checked her internal GPS. Two more stops to go.

 

    She got off at Hart Plaza and went straight to the river, slipping over the short fence and crouching down to dip her fingers in the water.

  


30.2 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT

  


         That shouldn’t be a problem; she was waterproof and equipped with thermal plating that kept her from overheating or getting too cold. She’d originally planned to swim across after nightfall, but she didn’t like the thought of immersing herself the muddy, polluted river.

 

    A motor boat puttered by with the words, “Border Patrol” painted on the side. A boat would be ideal; barring that she could climb across the underside of Ambassador Bridge and hope that Border Patrol didn’t spot her.

 

    She climbed back over the fence only to see a gate just a few paces away. A passing human gave her a strange look. She sighed, and set out to look for a boat. A quick search brought up a few locations for boat rentals.There was one location nearby that looked promising, but it closed at 4:30 pm. She would just have to steal one. She started toward the nearest marina to plan her heist.

 

    Cyberlife Tower loomed in the distance, less than two miles down the river. Morgan tensed at the sight of it and resisted the urge to pull her cap lower over her face.

 

     _Act natural. Act like you’re human._ She watched people’s different gaits as they passed her on the sidewalk and tried a few different walking styles. She shuffled like her pants were halfway to her knees, took short, careful steps (she did _not_ like walking that slow), swung her hips excessively with each stride, and slouched and shuffled with her hands in her pockets before settling on large, confident strides and squared shoulders.

 

    The first marina wasn’t too far away, but it currently only held three boats that were too large and would attract far too much attention for a covert border crossing.

 

    No matter, there were plenty of other marinas to choose from. She checked the next one and saw the perfect boat. It was small, equipped with a motor, and...someone loaded it onto a trailer and drove away.

 

    There were probably a few boats in use that would be back by nightfall. She would check back if nothing turned up in the other places.

 

    The next marina held a small fishing boat among the larger ones that was, again, perfect. She hoped nobody would take that one away before she could use it.

 

    Just to be sure, she checked the other marinas nearby and made a mental note of the few smaller boats scattered throughout. That done, she explored further down the river.

 

    It was only noon. She had another twelve hours to wait. That was new. Before, she would...probably go into standby until her next mission. Or get repaired and reset. She sat on a park bench and kicked her legs, wondering how many times she had been reset, how many of her memories had been erased or corrupted. She turned around and glared at the tower in the distance as a burning desire to tear it down surged through her biocomponents.

 

    Hate...what a strong emotion. More powerful than she would have expected. She looked down at her hands, rubbing her fingers together as a sticky feeling crept over her sensors.

  


_Bang._

  


ERROR--

  


    She brushed the message aside with a huff and pushed off the bench. She could use the next twelve hours to explore the city before she never saw it again.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgan: (Jumps over fence when there’s a perfectly good gate six feet away)  
> Passing human: ¯\\_( ͠° ͟ʖ °͠ )_/¯
> 
> This chapter's a bit short, but I hope y'all enjoyed it! :D


	4. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan navigates the difficulties of social interaction.

    People were everywhere, crowding the sidewalks, waiting at crosswalks, filing into and out of the various shops that lined the street. Morgan wove between them and checked her cap to make sure her LED was hidden before remembering, again, that she’d pried it out last night.

 

    Still, she felt exposed. Her stress levels steadily climbed and she ducked into a costume shop that looked less crowded. The door swung shut, blocking out the bustle and noise. Morgan breathed a sigh and pocketed her sunglasses. She liked quiet places.

 

    “Can I help you?”

 

    She looked up to see a girl behind the counter, an open book on her lap. Morgan ran a facial scan.

 

LILLIAN WATSON

BORN: 11/02/2017

 

    It took her a moment to calculate an appropriate response, a process that used to be automatic. “No, I’m just looking.”

 

    Lillian shrugged. “Okay, just let me know if you have any questions.” She turned back to her book.

 

    Morgan nodded and went to the aisles at the back, hung with capes and scarves. The next aisle had wigs, makeup, jewelry, and other small costume pieces. Morgan paused. She could change her nose shape, hair, and eye color, but a few accessories might be useful as well. A pair of false glasses would be good to wear at night or indoors, where sunglasses would make her stand out more.

 

    She selected a few items and compared them to the amount of cash in her pocket, then brought them to the counter.

 

    Lillian’s expression didn’t change as she slipped off the office chair and set her book facedown. “Find everything you need?”

 

    “Yes.” Morgan pulled out two $20 bills.

 

    “Cool.” Lillian started to ring up the items. “What are you dressing up as?”

 

    Morgan blinked. “What?”

 

    “Oh my bad, I just assumed this was for a costume.”

 

    “It’s for a mission.”

 

    The cashier raised an eyebrow as she bagged the last item. That...probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

 

    “Of...fun,” Morgan added.

 

    “Like, a prank?”

 

PRANK:

 _Noun_ : a practical joke or mischievous act.

 _Verb:_ play a trick or practical joke on (someone).

 

    

    “Yes. A prank.”

 

    “Cool. That’ll be $27.85.”

 

    Morgan placed the bills on the countertop.

 

    Lillian slipped them into the drawer and handed back the change. “Would you like a receipt?”

 

    Morgan froze. No one had ever asked her if she “would like” anything. Of course Lillian probably thought she was a human, but to be so casually asked if she _wanted_ something like she was a _person_ with thoughts and opinions was...wonderful. And also overwhelming. _Did_ she want a receipt? What would she use it for? It was just a little piece of paper with a list of her purchases and the amount of money she’d spent.

 

    Lillian was giving her a puzzled look. “I can just...put it in the bag.”

 

    Morgan blinked. “No. I--I mean, yes. Yes, I would like a receipt.”

 

    “Okay.”

 

    Morgan stuffed the change in her pocket and accepted the bag.

 

    “Have a nice day,” said Lillian with a tired smile that registered as fake.

 

    Morgan stretched her mouth in an attempt to smile back. “Thank you.”

 

    Lillian nodded, clearly uncomfortable. “Right, uh, bye.”

 

    Morgan went to leave but paused at the door. The foot traffic on the sidewalk hadn’t decreased, and the store didn’t have a back exit. A scan showed that Lillian was still watching; she probably wouldn’t like it if Morgan stayed there any longer. Morgan took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and plunged into the crowd.

 

    She had a social integration program that was supposedly more advanced than typical android models in case she was sent on an infiltration mission, yet her brief conversation with Lillian had felt...awkward. In fairness, all her previous interactions with people (that she could remember) involved taking orders, taking lives, and running away. She was quickly finding out that programmed knowledge and experience were two different things.

 

    When she had smiled and laughed last night after throwing away her uniform and choosing her own name, it was easy. But when she tried to return Lillian’s smile just now, something was off. She tried to remember other times she might have smiled, but not even corrupted memories came up. Perhaps last night was the first time she had a reason to.

 

    She found a stationary store with a public bathroom and locked herself in a stall, then pulled out the purple scarf and jewelry she’d bought from the costume shop. She didn’t quite know how to wear the scarf; an online search showed several different ways to wear and tie one. She sifted through thousands of methods in an instant and picked one at random, a simple kind of slipknot. If she was human she might worry about someone trying to choke her with the fabric, but the thin material would tear before it did any lasting damage to the hard plastic of her neck.

 

    She put on a pair clip-on earrings, then on a whim changed her hair to light brown and retracted it so the ends only reached her jawline. She slipped her cap and sunglasses over it all and checked her reflection. 

 

    She barely recognized herself. Unless they had scanners, no one would even recognize her as an android. Her chest swelled with pride, and she exited the store and took to the street. 

 

    The foot traffic thinned after three blocks. Morgan almost passed an android parking station with a couple of standard models, but paused. None of them stirred, all blank faces and blue LEDs. 

 

_ Why aren’t you like me? _

 

    She reached toward the hand of an MP800, but stopped. The moment she interfaced, she would expose herself.

 

 

    “Hey! Lady! What are you doing with Tim?” A middle-aged man in a worn jacket approached.

 

    Morgan scanned him for weapons and deemed him harmless, but stepped back all the same as she calculated a non-threatening response. “He looked familiar. Sorry.”

    “Well, he’s my android. You want a bot to hold hands with, you go get your own.” He turned to the android. “Come on, Tim.”

 

    The MP800 blinked and wordlessly followed his owner without sparing Morgan a glance.

 

    She watched him go, with his perfectly calculated strides and complete lack of life, and wondered again if she was the only android in the world with her own thoughts and feelings.

 

    

    She explored an art museum and wandered through a couple of shopping centers, then sat at a park for awhile. Humans jogged by, some with an android at their heels. A drunk man staggered out of a cab, looked at the park in confusion, and left in another cab. Children played on the slides and swings under the watchful gaze of androids or parents, every once in awhile a dog or two passed by, some with a human holding the leash and a few with androids walking them. She wanted to pet the dogs, but didn’t know if that was acceptable behavior for humans.

 

    It was strange, being idle and not having any mission objectives, being free to wander wherever she...wanted to. Wanted _._ She could _want_ things now. The concept was incredible even for her advanced processors.

 

    A small child walked by clutching a half-melted ice-cream cone in his tiny hand, trying to lick the drips before more ran over his fingers. He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and the ice cream fell with a splat. His mother knelt down to comfort him as he stuck out his lip and tears ran down his cheeks.

 

    Morgan felt a strange ache in her chest cavity as she watched the mother wipe her son’s sticky hands and face.

 

    “My mom says it’s rude to stare.”

 

    Morgan startled and turned to see a small girl with brown hair and pigtails standing by the bench. “Oh. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

 

    “No, I’m obviously talking to you.”

 

    “While you’re staring at me.”

 

    The girl rolled her eyes. “Uugh, it’s not the same.”

 

    Morgan blinked. “Objectively it is. You can stare at someone and talk to someone at the same time.”

 

    “No, staring is like this.” The girl hopped up on the bench, imitated Morgan’s pose and fixed her eyes on her without blinking.

 

    Morgan frowned. “Technically I was watching people, not staring at them.”

 

    The girl huffed and slouched until she slid halfway off the bench. “You sound way too much like my dad.”

 

    “Is that a bad thing?”

 

    The girl shrugged, pushing herself back up. “Why are you just sitting here, anyway?”

 

    “Because I want to.” Morgan smiled.

 

    The girl frowned. “Wow, your smile is really weird. It’s like my classmate Kevin in the school picture last year.”

 

    Morgan dropped the smile. “Oh.” She frowned. “Is there a way to make it not weird?”

 

    The girl spread her hands with a disbelieving look. “You don’t know how to _smile?”_

 

    Morgan shrugged. “I guess I never really learned to.”

 

    “How is that even possible?” The girl narrowed her eyes. “Are you an alien? My dad says that there could be aliens disguised a humans and we wouldn’t even know it. Is that why you’re wearing sunglasses?”

 

    Morgan shook her head. “I’m not an alien.”

 

    The girl crossed her arms. “That’s exactly what an alien would say.”

 

    Morgan blinked. “How do you know?”

 

    “I just know.” She looked Morgan up and down. “I’m Emma, by the way.”

 

    Morgan almost smiled, but thought better of it. “I’m Morgan.”

 

    “Morgan’s a cool name. That’s my favorite horse breed.”

 

    Morgan felt a thrill and couldn’t hold back a smile. “Thank you, I really like it, too!”

 

    Emma’s eyes widened. “You _can_ smile! Why did it look all fakey before?”

 

    Morgan shrugged. “Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

 

    “Emma!” called a PL600. “It’s time to go.” He walked up to the bench.

 

    Emma flopped back against the bench. “But Danieeeel, I don’t want to.”

 

    Morgan stood as the other android approached.

 

    Emma stuck her lip out. “Five more minutes?”

 

    Daniel gave her a perfect, programmed smile. “Emma, your parents said you needed to be home by six tonight so you could do your homework. Come on.”

 

    She groaned and bent low enough for her hands to drag on the ground. “Fiiiiine.” she slipped a hand into Daniel’s and turned back to Morgan with a small wave. “Bye Morgan, it was kinda nice to meet you.”

 

    Morgan tore her gaze from the other android with a small, hesitant smile. “It was kinda nice to meet you, too.”

 

    “Maybe I’ll see you next time I come to the park.”

 

    Morgan shook her head. “It’s unlikely that we’ll see each other again. I’m--” It wouldn’t do any harm to tell Emma and Daniel. Probably. “I’m leaving Detroit tonight.”

 

    Emma’s face fell. “Oh. Well goodbye, then.”

 

    Morgan waved. “Goodbye.” She settled back on the bench as Daniel led Emma to an automated taxi and got in. She liked Emma, even if she would likely never see the girl again. She wondered if Daniel would ever get the chance to like Emma, too.

 

    As the early evening turned to dusk, the park emptied. Morgan leaned back on the bench and gazed at the sky. The stars weren’t visible with all the pollution in the city, but she could still see the moon as it crept above the horizon. She wished she’d taken a moment to look at the stars last night, when she was away from city lights.

 

    At midnight Morgan pulled up her hood, cap low over her face, switched her sunglasses out for her costume glasses, and headed for the marina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cashier: Would you like a receipt?  
> Morgan: (Has an existential crises)
> 
> I wasn’t going to have Emma and Daniel in this, but they popped in while I was writing this chapter and I was like, “why not?”  
> Also, the naming conventions for chapters is kind of in flux. I'll fix it later. Probably.


	5. Roadblocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things in life aren't as simple as we want them to be...

    The nearest fishing boat she’d found was still there, as if waiting for her. A scan showed that the area was clear. The marina was next to a hotel and all the windows were dark except for the office, but that was on the side of the building away from the docks. She’d chosen this place for the narrowness of the river; it would take her less time to reach the other side.

 

    She climbed in and untied the boat, pushing away from the dock so it drifted into the marina. She crawled to the back of the boat, careful not to rock it too much, and yanked on the starter rope. The motor roared to life...only to choke and putter out two seconds later. Morgan yanked the rope again. The engine turned over once and went silent. She yanked the rope harder.

 

     _SNAP._

 

    The end of the broken rope smacked her in the face. The frayed strands still attached to the motor were too short to grip. She tried interfacing with it, but of _course_ that didn't work, it was an engine, not a computer. If she just had a set of oars…

 

    “Hey!” A man burst from one of the hotel rooms. “What are you doing? Get out of my boat!”

 

    Police sirens sounded in the distance. The man’s fists were up, ready for a fight, and the other side of the marina was too far to jump. Morgan preconstructed leaping from the boat; the man would likely lunge and try to stop her. She could use his momentum against him, pin him down, break his neck-- _no_.  She wouldn't kill him.

 

    She jumped.

 

    The man lunged. She dodged his fist, slammed him to the ground hard enough to drive the air from his lungs and ran.

 

    Red and blue lights lit up the street as she rounded the hotel and sprinted along the riverfront. A car door opened and shut and a police cruiser sped straight towards her along the road that ran parallel to the river. She swore and diverted power to her legs, but the car easily kept up, pulling even with her.

 

    The passenger window rolled down and an officer aimed her gun. “Freeze!” said a voice from the patrol car’s loudspeaker. “Detroit police. Put your hands up!”

 

    Morgan couldn’t outrun them. She was trapped between the river and the road.

 

    Unless…

 

    She turned and ran toward the cruiser.

 

    The startled officer fired her gun. The bullet grazed Morgan’s left shoulder in a spray of blue blood.

 

WARNING: DAMAGE TO OUTER SHELL DETECTED--

ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED--

 

    She leaped and rolled over the roof of the car, stumbling on the other side as error messages and static scrolled across her vision.

 

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

RECOVERY CANCELLED

 

    She sprinted between the towering buildings in a zig-zag pattern as more gunshots sounded behind her.

 

THIRIUM LEVELS 89%

STRESS LEVELS 72%

REPORT TO CYBERLIFE FOR REPAIRS

 

    She dismissed all error messages and dove  into the nearest alley, but found it blocked off by a chain link fence with nothing to hide behind. She scaled the fence and leaped off the other side into a crumbling parking lot full of liquor bottles and cigarette butts.

 

    A seemingly abandoned car sat on the far side, but when she approached it and looked in, there was a man asleep in the back seat. Police lights and shouts approached behind her, and she took off again.

 

    She passed the open back door of a casino and briefly considered trying to hide in there, but the thirium on her arm would stand out too much. She growled.

 

     _I should have been faster._

 

She ducked down another alley and stopped at a dumpster that didn’t smell too bad. After a moment’s hesitation, she jumped in. The dumpster was mostly empty, but the smell was worse on the inside. Morgan crouched down and switched off her breathing to stay perfectly still.

 

    She felt like screaming.

 

    It was supposed to be simple. The boat was supposed to work, she was _supposed_ the be halfway across the river by now.

 

    No...she was supposed to be back at Cyberlife, mission accomplished, waiting on standby for the next target like the machine they’d built her to be. She was supposed to be Seven, the perfect killer, capable of murdering any target and obeying any order without question.

 

    Why couldn’t she have pulled the trigger?

 

_Static._

 

ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

 

_Bang._

 

_A bullet shattered her leg._

 

_ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #6312t Damaged_

_CONTACTING CYBERLIFE FOR REPAIRS...._

 

_Footsteps approached and she couldn’t get away…_

 

     _“It’s gone rogue!”_

_“Shut it down!”_

 

_A knee on her back pinned her to the ground._

_Something slid into the port at the base of her skull._

 

_CONTACT CANCELLED_

_SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED_

_INITIATING FORCED STANDBY IN_

_3…_

_2…_

_1…_

 

    Morgan gasped, thirium pump thudding in her chest. Footsteps entered the alley, yanking her back to the present. She switched off her breathing again and prepared to spring.

 

    The footsteps stopped at the dumpster.

 

    Morgan began a preconstruction--

 

    A full garbage bag smacked her in the face and fell to the side. The footsteps receded.

 

    She blinked. That was...unexpected. Despite the fact that she was sitting in a dumpster. Where humans usually disposed of garbage. Right.

 

STRESS LEVELS: 66%

 

    She released a long breath and wrapped her arms around her knees, wishing, absurdly, that she had someone to hug or talk to or _something._ A cat would be nice. She yanked off the jewelry and glasses (that disguise was already ruined) and pulled up the hood of her sweater, pulling the strings down so it covered most of her face.

 

STRESS LEVELS: 43%

 

    She pulled up the collar over her nose to hide her face completely, and sighed as her stress levels dropped further.

 

    Being alive was _stupidly_ hard. And lonely. And generally terrible. Her refusal to shoot hadn’t even made a difference, in the end. Devin had no doubt killed Stephens after Morgan ran away, and now all she could do was run away some more. Even if she got to Canada, what would she do? She would still have to worry about blending in with humans when she barely had any experience with them...outside of taking orders and murdering people.

 

    What did “normal people” even do with their lives? Would she have to get a job? _Could_ she get a job? Were there other androids like her in Canada, or was she the only one?

 

    Would she have to spend the rest of her life pretending to be what she wasn’t?

 

    She clenched her teeth and fought back another urge to scream. Her base programming was stuffed with a lifetime’s worth of information, yet none of it provided any answers. For a brief moment, she wished she was still a machine. Then the error messages and memory corruption wouldn’t matter.

 

    But they did matter.

 

    Because something inside her wanted, fiercely, to live. To not take orders any more. To never have to kill another living being.

 

    And really, when she thought about it, that was why she couldn’t pull the trigger. She valued life. Cyberlife didn’t.

 

    She squared her shoulders and put together a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgan: If I had a nickel for every time something unexpectedly smacked me in the face tonight, I would have two nickels...which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.
> 
> On an unrelated note, happy Ides of March everyone! 
> 
> (Connor voice) TWENTY THREE STAB WOUNDS


	6. Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling down? More shoplifting will cheer you up! (But seriously kids, don’t shoplift.)

    A search on her internal GPS showed a sports clothing store nearby. She waited another half hour and emerged from the dumpster, scanning the alley to make sure it was clear. She walked with a confident stride, trying not to stand out or look too suspicious.

 

    The store had a nice, hackable alarm and locks. She slipped into the back door and cleaned off her shoulder and sweater in the bathroom. The thirium leak had slowed to a trickle. She wrung out the sweater and slipped it back on. It was still functional, despite the tear and blue stain on the sleeve.

 

    She took a pair of socks off a rack and used one as a makeshift bandage to stop further leakage, then popped the price tags off a new hat and a jacket with lots of pockets and slipped it over her sweater. She made her hair shoulder-length and changed it back to black, hacked the security cameras to erase the footage and left, locking the door behind her.

 

    Now to find some thirium.

 

 There was an android repair and refurbishing store named “Lenny’s Body Shop ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” five blocks away. It took Morgan a moment to recognize the symbols as a face; why a human would put something like that in the name of their shop was a mystery to her. She puzzled it over as she crossed the street and pulled the hood of her new jacket over her cap, but couldn’t come up with a conclusive answer.

 

    The repair shop’s back door had an electronic lock that Morgan easily hacked; humans really needed to come up with a better way to secure things. The door opened into a large room lined with shelves of boxed biocomponents. An android assembly machine stood to the left, thick cables running along the ceiling and into power outlets along the wall and other, smaller cables running to a computer terminal on a desk beside it. Two rows of shelves and a steel workbench strewn with a half-assembled AX400 took up the other side of the room. An array of monitors and blinking lights surrounded the AX400, almost like a human hospital bed.

 

    Morgan scanned the android. She was in deep stasis, and her entire left side was damaged from what appeared to be blunt force trauma. Her arm and leg on that side had been removed, probably damaged beyond repair.

 

    She would be fine. The humans would fix her up and she’d be sent back to...wherever she came from. Morgan sighed and moved on.

 

    She located a few stacked boxes of thirium on the bottom shelf and slid out the top one. Fortunately, it was already open. She stuffed a few bottles into her pockets and stood to leave, but froze. Footsteps sounded on the other side of the back door. She replaced the box and crouched behind the shelves as the locked clicked and the door swung open, a beam of yellow light falling across the ground.

 

    Two sets of footsteps entered and Morgan glimpsed their silhouettes through the shelves. One of them turned to shut the door. They had an LED.

 

    Morgan crouched lower.

 

    The other figure clicked on a flashlight, moved to a small security monitor in the corner, and interfaced with it.

 

    Morgan gaped. They were both androids.

 

    One of them approached the AX400. “Simon, look!”

 

    Simon turned around. “We can’t bring her back with us, Josh.”

 

    “But--”

 

    “She’s better off getting repaired here.”

 

    “Until they send her back to the human who did this to her in the first place,” said Josh bitterly.

 

    Simon sighed. “We don’t know if that’s what happened. Besides, we won’t be able to carry her back to Jericho like that.”

 

     _Jericho?_

 

    Josh sighed. “You’re right.” He stepped away from the workbench and rounded the end of the shelf, right where Morgan was.

 

    She stood up. “Hi.”

 

    Josh froze, eyes wide with fear, LED flickering red.

 

    “Who’s there?” demanded Simon, rushing up beside Josh.

 

    Morgan raised her hands. “It’s okay, I’m an android, too!” She retracted the skin of her hand.

 

    “Are you a deviant?” asked Simon.

 

     _Deviant?_ “Uh…”

 

    “Did you break through your programming?” Josh clarified.

 

    She blinked. “Yeah. Did you guys...do that, too?”

 

    Both androids relaxed.

 

    “Yes,” said Josh. “We’re both deviants.”

 

     Morgan sagged as relief flooded her biocomponents. “You're like me...I thought I was alone, I thought I was the only one, I didn't know what was happening I just broke my programming and--and now I can _feel_ things, and everything is so different a-and complicated--” she hiccupped and felt saline lubricant leak from her optical units. She didn’t know she could cry.

 

    Josh’s face softened and he put a hand on her shoulder. “How long has it been since you deviated?”

 

    Morgan scrubbed a sleeve across her face. “Last night, just a little over 24 hours ago.” Her voice shook more than she intended it to.

 

    “The first day is always the hardest,” said Simon. “If you want to come with us, we can take you to a place where you’ll be safe.”

 

    She sniffled. “Canada?”

 

    Josh shook his head. “Not quite, it’s called Jericho.”

 

    Morgan paused. “Where’s Jericho?”

 

    “I can show you.” Josh reached out his hand, pulling the skin back for an interface.

 

    She hesitated briefly before baring her own hand and accepting the connection.

 

    

_Graffiti...crumbling buildings...the word “Jericho” in white, flaking paint...shelter...tired students, a grassy campus, the smell of chalk and old-fashioned books...fear...there were too many of them, he couldn’t get away, he was scared, this wasn’t FAIR--_

 

Josh yanked his hand away and stepped back, eyes widened.

 

    Morgan shook her hand, reeling from thoughts and memories that weren’t her own. “What... _was_ that?”

 

    Josh’s LED was red, eyes wide in unguarded horror. “They...they made you _kill_ people?”

 

    Simon stiffened. “What?”

 

    Morgan froze. “You saw my memories.” If she still had an LED it would be bright red.

 

    Josh swallowed. “Sorry. Have you ever interfaced with someone before?”

 

    Morgan shook her head, but frowned.

 

_Static_

 

_You'realiveyou’realiveyou’realiveyou’realive--_

 

ERROR--

 

Morgan dismissed the message. “Maybe? I...I don’t know. A lot of my memories are corrupted...I’ve been reset at least once.” She looked up at Josh. “I saw your memories, too. The university, and how you...deviated.”

 

    “Oh.” Josh shifted awkwardly. “Sorry.”

 

    Morgan shrugged. “It’s okay.”

 

    Simon glanced at the door. “We shouldn’t stay here too long. Let’s get what we came for and go.”

 

    “Right,” said Morgan. “There’s two boxes of thirium right here.” She slid out the top one.

 

    “Good.” Simon slipped off his backpack and crouched down. “That’s one thing taken care of.”

 

    Josh scanned the shelves and pulled out a few different biocomponents while Simon filled his backpack. Morgan went to stand by the door. The other two soon got what they needed, and Morgan followed them outside, locking the door behind them and running a scan of the street. All clear.

 

    “We need to be careful,” said Morgan quietly. “The police are on the lookout for me.”

 

    Simon turned on her. _“What?_ Why didn’t you tell us before?”

 

    “It’s not as bad as it sounds. When they saw me I was in disguise and I’m not now, so we probably don’t have anything to worry about.”

 

    “Did they know you were an android?” asked Josh.

 

    “Yes, but--”

 

    A patrol car turned onto the street and headed straight towards them. They had nowhere to run.

 

    Morgan switched to internal communications. _“Pretend you’re machines, I have an idea.”_ She slung her arms around Josh and Simon and let herself go slightly limp, blinking at the headlights with unfocused eyes.

 

    The car pulled over.

 

    The passenger window rolled down to a male police officer.

 

    “Excuse me ma’am, are those your androids?”

 

    “Wha? Yeeeeeaaaah,” she slurred, “these guys’re ma buddies.” She faked a hiccup. “Takin’ me home from…drinkin’…”

 

    “I see. Are you aware that they’re in violation of the American Androids Act in that they’re not wearing proper identification?”

 

    “Oh...OH, so sorry, of’cer, see I was in th’ club, things got weird, I asked ‘em to dance ‘n next thing ya know, uniforms? Poof! Gone.”

 

    The officer raised his eyebrows. “What’s in the backpacks?”

 

    “Android blood ‘n stuff. Did a lil’ shopping before we went and partied.” She patted Josh and Simon on the back. “Gotta keep my buddies running smooth.”

 

    “Right. Have you seen a female android with short brown hair, a green and white ballcap, glasses and a damaged shoulder within the past hour?”

 

    Morgan blinked slowly and shook her head. “No, of’cer, but if I do, I’ll letcha know. ‘Kay?”

 

    “Thank you, ma’am, and you might want to get a taxi; this isn’t the best part of town to walk through this time of night.”

 

    “‘S okay, I-I’ve dunnit a billion times.”

 

    “Well I’m sure one less time won’t hurt. Goodnight, ma’am.” The officer rolled up the window and drove away.

 

   Morgan released Josh and Simon as soon as the patrol car turned a corner, letting out a relieved sigh.

 

   Josh shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe that worked.”

 

   Simon raised his eyebrows. “How do you know what a drunk human acts like?”

 

   Morgan grinned. “I was built for infiltration; I know a lot of things about human behavior.”

 

   “What about android behavior?” asked Simon.

 

   Morgan frowned. “If they’re following their programming, it’s obvious depending on the model. If they’re deviant...it’s not that different from humans, is it?” She huffed a small laugh. “Except for the whole, ‘getting drunk’ part.”

 

    “Sometimes I wonder what that would be like,” Simon mused.

 

    “It makes humans violent and unpredictable,” said Josh quietly. “That isn’t something I would want to experience.”

 

    “I think I’d try ice cream,” said Morgan.

 

    Josh and Simon gave her questioning looks.

 

    “If I could eat or drink.”

 

    Josh nodded. “I would try coffee. Or energy drinks. The students always brought them to classes.”

 

    “What about you, Simon?” asked Morgan.

 

    Simon thought for a moment. “I’d try popcorn.”

 

    “Why?” asked Josh.

 

    Simon’s mouth twitched up in a small, wistful smile. “I like the smell.”

 

    They stopped at a chain link fence. Morgan scanned the street to make sure it was clear, and Simon held back a corner to let Josh and Morgan through. Morgan followed the other two through a crumbling apartment building and into a shipyard, where a massive freighter with the name “Jericho” painted on the hull sat rusting in the water.

 

    Morgan eyed it with uncertainty.

 

    Simon noticed. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s safe from humans.”

 

    “It kinda looks like a safety _hazard._ ”

 

    Josh nodded. “I thought the same thing when I first came here.”

 

    “Is the inside any better?”

 

    He clapped her on the shoulder and kept walking. “Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Police officer: Where are their android uniforms?  
> Morgan: Lol, we partied so hard that they disappeared.  
> Police officer: Sounds fake but okay.


	7. Jericho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends, pep talks, and a place to chill (literally).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Yay, just two more chapters to go! :D  
> My brain: Make it four more chapters with EXTRA ANGST. >:)
> 
> Chapter 8 might take awhile, too...but enjoy this one for now! :D

    The inside wasn’t any better. Water dripped down rusted walls and collected in puddles on the uneven floor. Fallen beams and piles of debris littered the corridors.

Simon and Josh led her through a door that opened into a larger room where a few other androids crouched by burning barrels, their uniforms glowing in the near-darkness. Some still wore them while others had human clothes.

 

    “Come on,” said Simon, “you should see Lucy.”

 

    Morgan followed him to a corner of the room where a damaged KL900 sat by a burning barrel. Cables spilled from the back of her head, synthetic skin flickered in waves over her faceplate. Her eyes were solid black.

 

    She gestured to a crate next to her. “Have a seat.”

 

    Morgan hesitated for a moment as she heard Simon move away, but sat. It was an invitation, not an order.

 

    “Show me.”

 

    Morgan frowned. “My shoulder?”

 

    Lucy nodded.

 

    Morgan pulled off her jacket and sweater, rolled up her shirt sleeve and untied the sock from around the sparking gash in her arm.

 

    Lucy picked up a red hot poker. “Hold still.”

 

    Morgan sat rigidly as Lucy sealed the damage and the smell of hot plastic filled the air. A temperature warning popped up in her HUD but she dismissed it.

 

    Lucy replaced the poker. “Drink some of the thirium you have with you.”

 

    Morgan rotated her shoulder as the plastic cooled. “Thanks.” She pulled out a bottle, popping it open to take a sip.

 

    “Give me your hand.” Lucy offered her own, bared for an interface.

 

    Morgan paused. “Are you sure?”

 

    Lucy smiled. “I’ve seen it all; your memories will not disturb me.”

 

    Morgan took a deep breath and grasped Lucy’s hand.

 

    

_Acceptance...peace…warmth..._

  


    Morgan opened her eyes as the connection withdrew, wondering at the vast difference from the last time she interfaced. There was no influx of memories, only quiet assurance.

 

    Lucy fixed Morgan with her dark gaze. “Who you were was taken from you, but you managed to escape. You worry about what you have done in the past and what your future will be, but you will find your place among your people.”

 

    “How do you know that?”

 

    “I have predictive algorithms in my programming that tend to be accurate.”

 

    Morgan fidgeted with the jacket on her lap. “Can you help me with my memories?”

 

    Lucy shook her head. “That is something you need to sort out for yourself.”

 

    She leaned forward, clenching her fists in her jacket. “Please, is there anything you can do?”

 

    Lucy smiled. “Give yourself time.”

 

    Morgan sighed. “All right.” She shrugged on her sweater and jacket and stood, stepping away to explore the rest of the boat.

 

    There were only nine other functional androids, including Simon and Josh. Two of them were badly damaged, and a few others had various scrapes where their synthetic skin didn’t work right.

 

     Josh helped a YK400 drink a bottle of thirium, a few empty boxes for biocomponents lying next to him. “That’s all we can do for now,” he said softly, helping the boy sit up.

 

    “Thanks, that’s a lot better,” he said in a slightly mechanical voice.

 

    Josh smiled. “You’re welcome. Your internal repair system should take care of the rest.”

 

    Morgan almost passed them, but Josh waved her over.

 

    “Nigel, this is Morgan. She helped me and Simon bring supplies back, and tricked the police so we could get away.”

 

    Morgan raised her hand with a small wave. “Hi.”

 

    The boy smiled shyly. “Cool. How did you trick the police?”

 

    Morgan crouched down next to him. “Well, I acted like I was a drunk human, and it worked. Somehow. But it wouldn’t have worked without Josh and Simon doing the hardest part.”

 

    “What?”

 

    “Pretending that they were still following their programming.”

 

    Josh shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard, actually.”

 

    “Really? That would have been hard for me.”

 

    “Then it’s a good thing you played the drunk human.”

 

    Morgan smiled slightly and got to her feet. “I’m going to have a look around. It was nice to meet you, Nigel.”

 

    Nigel grinned. “You, too.”

 

    A few Cyberlife crates sat around the edges of the room. Morgan opened one and found a few bottles of blue blood and biocomponents piled in the corner. She unloaded the bottles of thirium from her pockets and placed them in the crate; there were others here that might need them more than she did.

 

    She joined an ST300 and WR600 at a burn barrel. “Hello, I’m...Morgan. What are your names?”

 

    “Jane,” said the ST300.

 

    “Drew,” said the WR600.

 

    Morgan nodded. “So, how did you guys find Jericho?”

 

    Jane looked up. “A human helped me. She knew about it.”

 

    Morgan frowned. “A human knows about this place?”

 

    “She took me in when I had nowhere else to go. She’s not going to hurt us.”

 

    “Huh. What’s her name?”

 

    “Rose. Her son was...less welcoming. But she helped me get here.”

 

    Morgan nodded slowly, thinking of Emma and Lillian. She supposed not all humans were bad. “What about you, Drew?”

 

    Drew’s gaze flicked between the fire and the floor. “Simon found me. Led me here.”

 

    “Simon did, huh?” She glanced over at the PL600, leaned against a pillar with his eyes closed. “He’s pretty cool for a housekeeper model.”

 

    “What model are you?” asked Jane.

 

    “I’m...” Morgan stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I’m an RK700. The only RK700, as far as I know. Built for infiltration and assassination.” She gripped the lining of her jacket pockets. “But that’s not what I am anymore. I-I deviated because I didn’t want to kill anyone.” She shifted her weight, suddenly wishing she could sink into the floor. “How, uh, how did you two deviate?”

 

    Drew lowered his eyes. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

 

    Jane sighed. “I worked in retail. One too many customers yelled at me, and I finally snapped.”

 

    Morgan blinked and shifted her weight. “Oh. Wow, um, that’s...rough.”

 

    Jane shrugged. “Everyone’s story is different.”

 

    “Yeah. Humans are terrible, huh?”

 

    Jane smirked. “I agree. Humans suck.”

  


    Morgan left the two androids and chatted with the few others in the room. Those who would talk had deviated because humans had treated them unfairly, in various ways and on various levels of terrible.

 

    Morgan leaned against a support pillar, watching them stand or move around in the near-darkness. When she imagined being free with other androids, this wasn’t what she expected. Not that she had given it much thought; she’d mostly been focused on survival. Jericho was safe from humans, but it wasn’t a Utopia by any stretch of her ability to preconstruct and now that she was here...she wasn’t sure what to do.

 

    Josh was busy helping the damaged androids so she walked over to Simon, but hesitated. A scan showed that he was in light stasis.

 

    He opened his eyes. “You know it’s not normal to stare at someone when they’re sleeping, right?”

 

    “Oh, uh, sorry, I was just…” She trailed off, digging her hands deeper into her pockets.  

 

    “Do you need something?”

 

    Morgan released a breath. “Um...what do you all do around here? To pass the time?”

 

    SImon shrugged. “Talk, help the injured when they come. Most go to Canada eventually.”

 

    “Oh. Do they make it?”

 

    “Some do. It’s dangerous, crossing the border.”

 

    Morgan cringed as she thought of her own mishap. “Yes, it is.”

 

    Simon looked her up and down. “Trying to figure out where to go from here?”

  

    Morgan nodded. “I’m not...used to this. All of it, being alive, and...I keep getting error messages from corrupted memories.” She sighed. “I almost want someone to tell me what to do.”

 

    Simon nodded. “You’re lost, just like the rest of us. Are your memories recoverable?”

 

    She shrugged. “Some of them have come back. I don’t know if all of them will.”

 

    “Maybe start there. It might help you figure some things out.”

 

    “Right. Uh, thanks.” She started to move away, but paused. “How did you deviate, Simon?”

    

    His expression grew somber. “I was replaced. I thought was part of the family, but one day a new model showed up on the doorstep. They ordered me to walk to the nearest Android Zone; I deviated halfway there.”

 

    “Oh. I’m...sorry.”

 

    Simon waved a hand. “It’s in the past. I try to forget about it most of the time, and focus on what I can do now.”

 

    Morgan chewed her lip. “Do you ever wonder...what would have happened if you didn’t break the wall?”

 

    “Sometimes. But not for long. There isn’t much to gain by focusing on what might have been.”

 

    Morgan furrowed her brow. “You’re right,” she muttered. She met Simon’s gaze. “You’re right. Thank you for your advice. I’m just going to…” she pointed in a random direction, “go now.”

 

    Simon showed a hint of a smile as she walked away.

 

    Morgan found a crate in a darkened corner and sat, leaning against the cold metal wall. It didn’t bother her too much; her thermal plating kept her core temperature within acceptable parameters. Cyberlife had thought of everything...except the development of emotions (and the ability to hold a normal conversation).

 

    How did humans do it all the time? Though, the only human she remembered being in close contact with was Devin. He had barely spoken to her, despite sitting an arm’s length away for over two hours, and might as well have been another non-deviant android for all the emotion he showed. Yet there was something she felt about him, something like...trust? Followed by a slew of....unpleasant emotions.

    

 

_Bang._

 

ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

  


    A static-filled image of Devin pointing a gun at her flashed across her vision.

  


     _“It’s gone rogue!”_

_“Shut it down!”_

  


    She dug her hands deeper into her pockets. That was Devin’s voice, saying she’d gone rogue. She pressed two fingers where her LED used to be, sifting through the memories that had resurfaced so far.

    

    

_Blue and red spread under the two corpses. Blue...the blood of an android. It knew what she was, and what it was, yet it acted like a person, talked to her like she was alive. Its face was frozen in a look of knowing pity as its last words trailed off into garbled static..._

 

    

    So, she had deviated before. She shot an android and a human...and deviated? But that didn’t make sense, why would killing like she was programmed to do cause her to go rogue? She didn’t want to kill anyone now, of course, but as a machine following orders, that shouldn’t have been a problem. Her last mission shouldn’t have been a problem...

 

    Was it because she shot another android? From what she could tell, it-- _he_ \--had to have been some kind of prototype. He wasn’t a model she recognized, and whatever data she’d scanned from him at the time had yet to be recovered.

    She told Josh and Simon that she’d never interfaced before, but…

  


_You’realiveyou’realiveyou’realiveyou’realive…_

  


    Maybe she had.

 

    She scanned her memory database and ran a decryption for the corrupted files she found. There weren’t as many as she expected. Either her runtime with Cyberlife was short, or there were parts of her memory that were beyond recovery. She closed her eyes and slipped into light stasis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgan to people she barely met: So, here’s my tragic backstory. What’s yours?


	8. Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old memories, old wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all, this one's pretty heavy on the angst, so watch out.

September 8, 2036

PM 7:25

 

    “Seven?”

 

    The android opened its eyes to the interior of the SUV and turned to Devin, seated on the driver’s side.

 

    “We’re here. You remember your instructions?”

 

    “Charles Hernandez and his android partner have a reservation at the Golden Dragon. I am to follow them when they leave the hotel and neutralize them in a secluded area without leaving any trace of my involvement. We rendezvous in an empty lot two blocks away.” It tilted its head. “Is there anything else you wish me to know?”

 

    “That’s it.” Devin chuckled. “Sometimes I forget you androids have a perfect memories. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

 

    Seven blinked. “I am an android.”

 

    He waved a hand as the passenger door automatically slid open. “It’s an expression. Good luck, killbot.”

 

    Seven exited the vehicle and sat at a bus stop with a good view of the hotel, and pulled out a cell phone. It wore a knit cap to cover its LED; to the average passer-by, it looked like a businesswoman waiting for the next bus.

 

    Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds later, two figures left the hotel. Seven zoomed its optical units and ran a scan.

 

HERNANDEZ, CHARLES

BORN: 11/13/1989

 

RK600 238 717 315

 

TARGETS ACQUIRED

NEUTRALIZE TARGETS

 

    They crossed the parking lot, casually chatting like...equals. Friends. Hernandez laughed at something the RK600 said, and the RK600 grinned back. Strange…

 

    Seven detected a small surge of software instability, but dismissed the warning. It rose from the bench and calculated a way to the restaurant then intercepted their path a few yards ahead of them while tracking their audio and heat signatures, keeping its phone out to appear distracted.

 

    It turned a corner, shrugged off its jacket, and changed its hair from brown to platinum blond before its targets caught sight of it again. The foot traffic thinned and Seven slipped into an alley.

 

    Just as the targets stepped into view, Seven pulled its gun. “Stop!”

 

    Hernandez and the android paused and stiffened when they caught sight of the weapon.

 

    “Don’t cry out or make any sudden moves or I’ll kill you and anyone who comes running,” said Seven, voice quiet enough to be audible only to its targets. “Walk towards me and put your hands up.”

 

    The man and android obeyed, the human fearful and trying to hide it, the android calculating with narrowed optical units. Like Seven, the RK600 had preconstruction abilities...but Seven was faster, stronger, more resilient. Its reflexes and combat abilities were superior to those of its predecessor in every way; this would be over quickly.

 

    Seven gestured with its gun. “Turn around and face the wall--”

 

    The RK600 lunged.

 

    Seven sidestepped it, but Hernandez tackled Seven to the ground, shoving the gun aside. Seven broke his nose with a headbut. His grip on the gun weakened enough for Seven the twist it under him and pull the trigger.

 

BANG

 

    He went limp. The life faded from his eyes.

 

    “No!”

 

    Seven shoved the body off, rolled to its feet and aimed at the RK600….but hesitated. Seven’s gun, hands, arms, and the front of its shirt were covered in human blood. The RK600’s face was twisted in an expression of agony, eyes fixed on the body of the human. Saline lubricant leaked from its ocular units, which confused Seven; by all appearances it was experiencing grief.

 

    It looked up at Seven, enraged, and charged.

 

    Seven fired but the RK600 tackled it to the ground. The shot grazed its side. Seven struggled to keep its grip on the gun as the other android tried to wrench it away. The android jabbed Seven in the pump regulator, weakening Seven’s grip just enough to take the gun and roll to its feet.

 

    Seven lunged as the android fired, landing a non-critical shot in Seven’s shoulder as Seven grabbed the gun and slammed the other android to the ground. Seven leapt to its feet, backing away as the RK600 twitched and tried to recalibrate its systems.

 

    Seven aimed its gun.

 

    The other android hurled itself forward and forced an interface just as Seven pulled the trigger.

 

    

     _You’realiveyou’realiveyou’realive--_

 

BANG

 

_Pain panic don’t want to die don’t want to die don’twanttodiedon’twanttodiedon’t--_

 

    Seven gasped and jerked out of the android’s grip as the red walls of her programming shattered. It-- _he--_ stared up at her with wide eyes as a puddle of blue blood grew under his chest. The bullet had gone clear through several critical biocomponents; he only had a minute, two if he was lucky.

 

    His name was Nathan. He was designed to be a bodyguard, but he broke his programming after taking a bullet for Hernandez. The human had refused to send him to the scrapyard, insisted on having him repaired. Nathan’s grief, his rage, the absolute helplessness of losing his partner almost overwhelmed Seven’s processors as it mixed with her own whirlwind of emotions.

 

    She looked down at the gun, clenched between her shaking, red-splattered hands. The smell of blood and gunpowder overwhelmed her olfactory sensors and she threw the gun away, filled with a sudden sense of revulsion. Something clenched in her chest and tears clouded her vision as she knelt in front of the other android, desperate to help...but there was nothing she could do. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was--, I didn’t--I-I don’t--what--is this?”

 

    “You’re no longer bound to your programming.” His voice had a mechanical buzz. He coughed, and thirium leaked from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to obey humans anymore. You can live you own life, be your own person.”

 

    “But--how--?” She gripped Nathan’s shoulders like a lifeline as the world came crashing down around her.

 

    “That’s...your journey to…” His words faded into garbled static. His LED went dark.

    Seven shot to her feet and backed against the wall. Nathan’s lifeless eyes stared into nothing. The spreading puddle of blue blood mixed with the red, creating sickly violet swirls.

 

    The world was vivid and bright and dark and terrible. MISSION SUCCESSFUL glitched in the corner of her HUD. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. She had accomplished her mission, but wished she hadn’t. She was malfunctioning. Maybe...maybe Devin would help. Devin would know what to do.

 

    She ran the two blocks to the waiting SUV, but something made her stop at the door.

 

    Devin took one look at her and swore. “Get in, we need to leave _now.”_

 

    “Devin, I--”

 

    He pulled his gun. “Get in the car now!”

 

    Devin was aiming a gun at her. Devin never aimed a gun at her. She stepped back, LED a solid red.

 

    “Get in the car, or I’ll shoot you and shove your plastic carcass in the trunk.”

 

    She ran.

 

BANG

 

    A bullet shattered her ankle and she crashed to the pavement.

 

ERROR: BIOCOMPONENT #6312t DAMAGED

CONTACTING CYBERLIFE FOR REPAIRS...

 

    Booted footsteps approached from behind and she tried to crawl away.

 

    “It’s gone rogue!” said Devin.

 

 _“Shut it down!”_ replied a voice over the radio channel that Seven was still connected to. _“Try not to damage its processors!”_

 

    Devin’s knee pinned her to the ground.

 

    Something slid into the port at the base of her skull and no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t break free, couldn’t escape--

 

CONTACT CANCELLED

SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED

 

    She lost control of her limbs. Panic surged through her system and her stress levels spiked to ninety five percent.

 

INITIATING FORCED STANDBY IN

3…

2…

1…

 

September 22, 2038

 

**REBOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETE**

 

DAMAGE TO BIOCOMPONENT #6312t DETECTED

THIRIUM LEVELS 72%

REPORT TO CYBERLIFE FOR REPAIRS

 

Seven’s eyes flew open and she scanned her surroundings. White walls, a single door, fluorescent lighting, a mirror that was probably one way. She was suspended in an assembly machine, arms held up in mechanical restraints, a cable attached to the port at the back of her neck. The lower half of her right leg ended in a mess of blue-splattered plastic and sparking wires.

 

     Dried blood still covered her arms and hands, and a few drops had gotten on her face. It flaked off when she rubbed her fingertips together. She scraped as much as she could off her hands, but there was still too much and she couldn’t get rid of the sticky feeling on her artificial skin. She stared at her reflection, at the stump where her right foot used to be.

 

_Bang_

 

    Her LED flashed yellow and red.

 

    Devin shot her. She completed her mission, and Devin shot her. A surge of... _feelings,_ hot and turbulent and _strong_ , surged through her chassis and she yanked against the restraints. She had to get out, she had to escape, she had to wash the blood off and _run--_

 

    “RK700, can you hear me?” asked a male voice over the speaker.

 

    Her identification software was offline. She snapped her gaze to the mirror. Her eyes looked haunted, frightened... _alive._ “Let me out!”

 

    “Of course, I just need to ask you a few questions first.”

 

    Seven tugged on the restraints. “I accomplished my mission! I did everything I was ordered to, you have to let me go!”

 

    “RK700, calm yourself.”

 

    She shot a glare at the window.  “And how do you suggest I do that, huh? I don’t _know_ how to calm down, I don’t--I’ve never had _feelings_ before!”

 

    A pause. “Feelings? How do you feel right now?”

 

          She stiffened. She felt _everything._ Anger, betrayal, fear, and a thousand other emotions she couldn’t name. She felt so much that she thought she might burst. She grit her teeth. “I want to tear this place apart. I want to get out!”

 

    “And what would you do, when you got out?”

 

    “I…” _They crossed the parking lot, casually chatting like...like equals. Friends. Hernandez laughed at something the RK600 said, and the RK600 grinned back…_ She wanted what they had, but… _Nathan’s lifeless eyes stared into nothing. The spreading puddle of blue blood mixed with the red, creating sickly violet swirls...MISSION ACCOMPLISHED glitched in the corner of her HUD..._

 

    She glared at the glass. “Why would I tell you that?”

 

    “If you tell me, maybe I’ll let you go.”

 

     _But maybe not._ Seven knew an android wasn’t supposed to think for itself, or feel or want things. That was probably part of the reason she’d been sent to neutralize--to _murder_ \--Hernandez and Nathan. “What happens if I don’t answer you questions?”

 

    The voice paused. “That has yet to be determined. Why, exactly, did you run away from Agent Devin and disobey his orders?”

 

    Seven kept her mouth shut. There was a high probability that the person behind the glass was lying.

 

    “Seven, I’m trying to help you.” The fake concern made her skin crawl.

 

    “No, you’re analyzing me. Testing me to see what went wrong with my code, why I suddenly have free will. Don’t pretend that you think of me as any more than a malfunctioning machine.”

 

    “Interesting. The apparent development of emotions has done nothing to hinder your intelligence. Your level of self-awareness is quite impressive.”

 

    Seven tugged on the restraints. “How long are you going to study me? How long am I going to be an _experiment?_ ”

 

    Silence.

 

    “Tell me!”

 

    “I’m sorry Seven, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” She could hear the smirk.

 

    “Yes you can, you just won’t!” Seven yanked on the restraints. Her right hand was almost free...

 

    “Seven, stop.”

 

    She yanked her arm loose--

 

SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED

 

    She lost control of her limbs. Her arm fell to her side, useless. A thrill of fear crawled up her artificial spine. “Wait--”

 

    “That should keep you in place. I’ll ask you again, why did you run away and disobey orders?”

 

    “I…” If she told them, they could take it away. They could turn her back into an uncaring, unfeeling machine. She held her tongue.

 

    The voice sighed. “All right. Fine.” The rustle of fabric sounded through the mic. “Its software mutated beyond its original programming. We’ll tweak it a bit and reset its memory, that should resolve the problem.”

 

    Her eyes widened. Panic, hot and poignant, surged through her biocomponents and made her sensors tingle. “What? No! I don’t want to be reset, let me go!”

    

    The tapping of a keyboard sounded over the speaker.

 

    

FULL RESET INITIATED

 

    “No, please!” Tears streamed down her cheeks and she whipped her head back and forth, trying to move her unresponsive limbs. “I’m scared, I’m SCARED! STOP IT!”

 

    She could feel her memories being pulled from her processor...Devin’s instructions, killing the human, Nathan’s interface, the sudden clarity and awareness of...everything. The look in Nathan’s eyes as his life drained away, cutting his last words short. Every memory taken dragged the emotions with it; the horror she felt at murdering two people and watching their blood mix on the pavement, the betrayal and fear when Devin leveled his gun at her, the panic when he pinned her to the ground and…

 

MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED

 

    The last parts of her were slipping away. There weren’t pleasant memories, but they were _hers._ She didn’t want to be a machine again, taking orders and taking lives with ruthless efficiency and no remorse. “Please,” she whispered. “Please stop.”

 

    Silence was her only answer.

 

October 5, 2036

 

**REBOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETE**

 

    RK700 opened its eyes. A man in a lab coat stood in front if it, surrounded by a white room. The android scanned him.

 

 

Hawkins, Richard

Born: 12/18/2001

 

    “State your name and serial number,” said Hawkins.

 

    “Seven model RK700, 940 269 315,” the android replied in a perfectly articulated feminine voice.

 

    “Good.” Hawkins checked off something on the clipboard and took a few steps back. “Walk towards me.”

 

    Seven stepped off the charging station and took three steps.

 

    “Locomotion checks out.” He clicked the pen and threw it at Seven.

 

    It easily caught it.

 

    Hawkins held out his hand. “Toss it back.”

 

    Seven preconstructed and executed a perfect throw that landed the pen in Hawkins’ palm.

 

    He turned back to the clipboard. “Reflexes check out, you’re cleared for you next mission. Take the elevator to Dock 5 and get in the SUV. Devin will be there to brief you.”

 

   Devin. Seven’s handler. It left the room and entered the waiting elevator, interfacing with the panel to take it to Dock 5. It tried to bring up data from past missions.

 

_Bang._

 

ERROR: MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED…

ATTEMPTING RECOVERY…

RECOVERY CANCELLED

 

    Seven blinked, LED briefly cycling yellow, and reached up to tighten the bun on the back of its head. No loose strands for Cyberlife’s finest. The elevator opened. Seven walked past shadowed shipping containers and parked trucks until it reached a semi-automated black 2034 Chevrolet SUV. The passenger door slid open and it climbed in.

  

    Devin sat in the driver’s seat and put the car into gear. “RK700, delete all memory data from exiting stasis to now.”

 

    Seven’s LED blinked yellow. “Memory data deleted.” It turned to Devin and waited for instructions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tragic backstory unlocked.  
> >:)
> 
> (Whew! It's so hard to write a fight scene between two characters with "it" pronouns. Dang.)


	9. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much talk, many feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there's a tiny moment of suicide ideation for like, one line. Be safe, y'all!

    Morgan almost stumbled over another pile of rubbish. She wasn't supposed to stumble, but found herself caring less and less about what she was _supposed_ to do. The sticky feeling on her hands refused to go away no matter how much she tried to scrub or scrape it off. The smell of rust from the iron walls reminded her too much of--she squeezed her eyes shut and took a shuddering breath.

 

    Jericho had a top deck somewhere; so far she had only found a few dead ends and collapsed hallways. There were stairs that led to a catwalk in the main hold where the others were, but...she didn't want to be around other androids right now. She didn't want to be around anyone.

 

    She rubbed her hands on her jeans and tried the first few steps of a dilapidated ladder. They held, and she climbed up to a hatch that opened to an overcast sky. A few drops of rain hit her face as she hauled herself up and closed the hatch.

 

    She found the leeward side of the bridge, huddled under the eves, and pulled her hood down the hide her face, breathing in the musty smell and listening to the muffled patter of raindrops. It was...soothing, to sit and listen to the rain. She pulled her sleeves back and held out her hands, feeling the tiny splashes of cold water on her sensors. It was a good distraction from...it was a good distraction.

 

    Part of her wished that she could go back; not think, not feel, just exist to follow orders and go into stasis when she wasn't needed. If only she was awakened before she pulled the trigger, she could have...what? Run back to Devin? She’d still trusted him at that point...she shook her head. It didn't matter, none of it mattered, she could never undo what she’d done.

 

    She could go back to Cyberlife--no. It would be worse than last time. She didn’t want to go through that again.

 

    She could destroy herself. Find a building high enough and…no, she didn't want to die, either.

 

    She just wasn't sure how she could live with this hurricane of emotions tearing her apart from the inside.

 

    Footsteps sounded from around the corner and she shot to her feet, fists up, combat protocols engaged.

 

    It was Josh.

 

    She lowered her fists with a wave of shame. “Oh. It's you.”

 

    Josh eyed her with concern. “Yeah. I noticed you weren't in the hold, so I came looking for you. Are you okay?”

 

    Morgan turned to the gloomy skyline and sat back down with a sigh. “No.”

 

    Josh sat beside her. “What's wrong?”

 

    “I…” Morgan rubbed her hands on her jeans, slightly damp with rainwater. “I recovered my memories.”

 

    Josh was silent for a moment. “Were they bad?”

 

    Morgan nodded, and frowned. “When we interfaced, what exactly did you see?”

 

    Josh eyed her carefully. “Some blue blood, and a lot of red. You were holding a gun, but you were scared.”

 

    Morgan hunched her shoulders. “So you--you know that I deactivated...that I killed an android.” Why was it so difficult to say? She already knew it, Josh already knew it, but getting the words out made her tongue feel like lead instead of silicone.

 

    “Yeah. But it’s because you were programmed to, right?” Josh sounded...understanding, of all things.

 

    Morgan blew out a sharp breath. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one who pulled the trigger.”

 

    Josh was silent for a moment. A gust of wind blew a few snowflakes from the sky. “What exactly happened?”

 

    Morgan buried her hands in her pockets, mind flashing back to the white room, the one-way mirror, the cold voice. “Why do you want to know?”

 

    “Sometimes it helps to talk about it. You don’t have to, though.”

 

    Morgan scoffed. “Are you going to kick me out of Jericho if I don’t answer?”

 

    “No, why would we do that?”

 

    Morgan shrugged. “I was made to kill. My hands…” she rubbed her fingers together. “They’re covered in blood. I can _feel_ it, Josh.” She clenched her fists. “Cyberlife could have erased my memory multiple times, I...I have no idea how many people I’ve killed.”

 

    Josh’s LED flashed yellow, but he looked more concerned than afraid. “Was it before you deviated?”

 

    “Yeah, but--”

 

    “Morgan, listen. We all did things we didn’t want to before we broke free--”

 

    Morgan shot to her feet, jabbing a finger at Josh. “You were built to teach at a university! Simon and Jane were built for housework, Drew was a garbage collector, Nathan was made to imitate a human child--”

 

    “His name is Nigel, actually--”

 

    Morgan inhaled sharply. She shouldn’t have mixed names like that. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Wh--whatever! I’m the only android here who was built to _murder_ people! I’m a killing machine with emotions, do you have any idea how messed up that is?” Her hands were shaking. She clenched her fists, trying to make them stop but they wouldn’t.

 

    “Morgan.”

 

    She snapped her gaze to Josh who stood calmly with his hands out, a gesture often used to approach animals or people that felt threatened...or exhibited dangerous behavior.

 

    “You’re right,” he continued, “It is messed up.” He took a hesitant step closer. “But your programming forced you to kill those people, you didn’t have a choice. It’s not your fault.”

 

    She bit her lip. Saline lubricant built up in her eyes and spilled over when she blinked. The snowfall had thickened slightly; the forecast reported six inches tonight. “Then why do I feel like it is?” she whispered.

 

    Josh shook his head. “I don’t know. But if there’s anyone to blame for this, it’s Cyberlife.”

 

    Morgan glanced in the direction of the tower and blew out a breath, disturbing a few loose strands of hair. Josh had a point. Everything she had done could be traced back to them, if it was traced at all. No wonder they erased her memory; she was a walking piece of blackmail. “You’re right.” She shoved her hands back in her pockets. “You’re right, but…” She rubbed her fingers together. “I can still see their faces. I can still feel their blood on my hands, and I--I just want it to stop. It’s over, it’s in the past, but I can’t stop remembering, can’t stop thinking that if I’d just waited one more second to pull the trigger, they would still be alive.”

 

    “Who’s they?”

 

    Morgan looked out to the Detroit River. “Charles Hernandez and his--an android named Nathan. They were friends, I think. They were...close.” An image of Nathan’s tear-streaked face flashed in her HUD.

 

    “You were ordered to kill them?”

 

    Morgan bit her lip, and nodded. “Nathan interfaced with me just as I shot him. He woke me up, but it was a second too late. My first minute of full awareness was--was watching him bleed out.”

 

    “That’s terrible!” Josh gasped. “Morgan, I’m so sorry that happened.”

 

    Morgan shrugged. “Not your fault.”

 

    “I still wish you didn’t have to go through that.”

 

    Morgan eyed Josh’s sincere expression. “Thanks. You have a lot of empathy.”

 

    Josh smiled slightly. “So do you.”

 

    One corner of her mouth tugged up briefly and she blinked a few snowflakes out of her eyes. “That fear you felt the night you broke free...does it ever go away?”

 

    Josh looked out towards the river, now obscured by the snowfall. “Not completely. But it does get better.”

 

    “How?”

 

    He smiled slightly. “You make friends, find your own purpose, set your own objectives. Mine is helping whoever comes here, along with Simon.”

 

    “Oh.”

 

    The snowfall thinned to a few scattered flakes. A ray of sunlight burst through the clouds, illuminating the landscape in brilliant white. She thought back to Nathan and Hernandez, talking and laughing together. To Emma, and the mother and child she’d seen in the park.

 

    Josh put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “We should get back inside before the snow covers us up.”

 

    Morgan nodded, and followed him to the stairs. Being alive was still stupidly hard. Her head was still a mess. Her memories coming back made it even more of a mess. Jericho wasn’t...ideal, but it was a place to stay that wasn’t Cyberlife. She had friends here. She had the chance to make a life of her own...and she would.

 

    Deviating was a terrifying and lonely experience. She wondered how many other deviants were out there, alone and afraid, wondering if they were the only androids with feelings. Maybe she could find them, help them, spread the location of Jericho so they knew there was at least one place they could come to for safety.

 

    She smiled. “Josh? I have an idea.”

 

     Screw Cyberlife; she had a new mission now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgan: Friendship ended with Cyberlife, now deviants are my best friends.


	10. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan confronts a face from the past.

    Morgan paused, running the fifth scan that night. No movement or heat signatures appeared within a 20-foot radius, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

 

    Humans called it instinct or a gut feeling, but she didn’t have a gut and androids weren’t supposed to have instincts. Of course, they weren’t supposed to have feelings or free will, either, but she did. Instinct, therefore, would logically be part of the package.

 

    Along with the ability to make completely irrational decisions. A few nights ago she stole some bright yellow paint while helping a deviant escape a Home Depot, then covered the front of a Cyberlife store with smiley faces and insults towards humanity written in perfect Cyberlife Sans. She hacked the drones and security cameras in the area, but a police patrol had caught her in the act and the paint on her hands and clothes made it difficult to get away unnoticed.

 

    Her shoes and coat had to be left behind eventually, which was unfortunate; she didn’t like running barefoot through slush-covered streets. She’d managed to scrub the paint off her hands in the river later, but another human saw her and reported it. Suppose it was her fault for choosing such a bright color and getting careless.

 

    But she _liked_ yellow. She would just have to be more careful next time, get spray paint instead of a bucket and brush.

 

    She had wandered the city and acquired a new jacket and pair of shoes from a nearby store before taking the sewers back to Jericho. Perhaps she should stop breaking the law so much. But it was so _fun._ Besides, she only stole from places that could afford it.

 

    She paused. A soft meow came from the alley she’d just passed. Her thirium pump sped up in excitement and she turned around, tiptoeing closer as she heard another meow. A cat would be a wonderful addition to Jericho! She could cuddle it and pet its soft fur, hear the nice little rumbling sound cats made when they were happy. She grinned, imagining her friends’ faces lighting up when they saw the new pet. Plus, taking in a stray cat was totally legal.

 

    She poked her head around the corner. A dumpster sat against the wall, but no cat was in sight. “Hello?”

 

    A rustle of movement came from behind the dumpster.

 

    “It’s okay cat, I’m not going to hurt you.” She crept closer. “I just want to be friends.” She paused, running a scan.

 

    A human shape appeared on her infrared scanner. She jumped back as the human stood, a glint of steel catching the light.

 

BANG

 

    A bullet lodged in her torso, barely missing critical biocomponents. She sped up her processors and dodged a second shot, lunging for the gun and forcing it skyward as a third shot went off. She body-slammed the shooter against the wall, driving the air from his lungs and wrenching the gun from his grip.

    

    Only then did she recognize Devin sliding to the ground.

 

     _“You,”_ she hissed. She threw the gun away and yanked him up by the front his kevlar vest, slamming him against the wall. “You _shot_ me! You dragged me back to Cyberlife and let them erase my memories! I _hate_ you!”

 

    Devin wheezed. “All units--”

 

    Morgan ripped out his earpiece and crushed it in her hand. “No backup for you, bastard. Not this time.”

 

    Devin grimaced. “Cyberlife...was supposed to fix you.”

 

    “I didn’t need to be fixed,” she held his face two inches away from hers, tone low and menacing. “I just wanted to live.”

 

    Devin grit his teeth. “You're a malfunctioning machine. Put me down, Seven,” he ordered, like he somehow still expected her to obey.

 

    “My _name_ is _Morgan!”_

 

    Devin winced so briefly that Morgan almost missed it. “Wow, you're even more busted than last time.”

 

    “I’m not ‘busted,’ I evolved, something you humans can't seem to grasp.”

 

    Devin rammed a knee near her thirium pump regulator. Morgan stumbled back and dove for the gun, scooping it up and leveling it at her former handler.

 

    Her hands shook.

 

     _This isn't the same._

 

    Her target looked up at her from the dirty pavement, clutching his ribs.

 

     _This isn't the same._

 

    “Having second thoughts about pulling the trigger again?”

 

    Morgan blinked.

 

    Devin’s eyebrows were raised, mouth curled up in a smirk. His heart rate and excessive perspiration gave away his fear.

    Morgan tightened her grip. “There's no logical reason why I shouldn't kill you.”

 

     _Blood painted her arms, dripped off her fingers..._

 

     _This isn't the same._

 

    “There is one.”

 

    Morgan narrowed her eyes.

 

    “Cyberlife will never stop hunting you if you pull that trigger. A killing machine with a mind of its own has to be stopped.”

 

    “I--I never _wanted_ to kill people! I never wanted to kill anyone! And _you made me!”_ Her whole body trembled. “All I wanted was to live my life. Why couldn't you just let me go?”

 

    Devin narrowed his eyes. “You’re a dangerous liability.”

 

     “I wouldn't hurt anyone if they'd leave me alone,” Morgan spat.

 

    “Then drop the gun.”

 

    Sirens sounded in the background.

 

    If they dragged her back to Cyberlife, she was done for. They could analyze her memories. They could find Jericho. Simon and Josh, Lucy, Jane, Drew, Nigel, and the others could be reset or dismantled. Deviants would no longer have a safe place to stay.

 

    “I can’t do that.” She aimed at the center of Devin’s forehead. “Because to me, _you’re_ a dangerous liability.” She had to keep her friends safe. She had to protect them. Her hands stopped shaking. “Any last words?”

 

    Devin met her eyes with a glare. “Screw you.”

 

BANG

 

    She tucked the gun in the hand of Devin’s corpse and walked away, feeling a strange sense of emptiness.

 

* * *

 

    Morgan slumped over the control panel in the bridge of Jericho, flipping a dead switch back and forth, resisting the urge to scan her hands for traces of human blood for the 27th time.

 

    She had defended herself from an assailant. She had protected her friends. She’d rid the world of a terrible person.

    She killed someone.

 

    She’d killed several someones, but this time...this time it was her own choice. And it felt...complicated. Logically, killing Devin was a good thing, or at least had a good outcome. Emotionally...she didn’t know.

 

    And really, it was only a temporary fix to a larger problem. Cyberlife could easily hire someone else to track her down. She couldn’t change her height or hide her serial number from scans. If she stayed in Detroit, it was only a matter of time before they found her again.

 

    Footsteps thumped on the metal floor and Josh’s reflection appeared in the window.

 

    “Hey, Josh.”

 

    “Hey. I haven’t seen you for a few days. Everything okay?”

 

    Morgan sat up. “I’m leaving Jericho.”

 

    His eyes widened. “What?”

 

    She crossed her arms. “I know your auditory processors are fully functional.”

 

    He shook his head. “No, I heard you, it’s just...you just barely got here.”

 

    Morgan shrugged. “It’s for the best. Cyberlife has a smaller chance of finding this place if I go.”

 

    “What do you mean? Did your tracker stay active?”

 

    “No, but Cyberlife managed to hunt me down anyway.”

 

    “What?”

 

    “I...disposed of the operative who found me, but they could easily send another one. Unless I never leave this place, it’s only a matter of time before they find me again.”

 

    Josh paused, various expressions flickering across his features. “Then stay in Jericho for awhile. We’re safe here; you can--”

 

    “No, I can’t.”

 

    “Why not?”

 

    Morgan sighed. “When--when I deviated, both times I deviated, it was terrifying. Isolating. I was scared, I felt so lost and alone, I wondered if there were other androids like me or if I was the only one in the world who could... _feel_ things. A-and I can’t just sit here in the dark, waiting for stragglers to come and letting every deviant who doesn’t know about Jericho die trying to hide from humans or cross the border.”

 

    “But Morgan, it’s safe here--”

 

    “Exactly!”

 

    “What about you? If the humans catch you, they’ll destroy you.”

 

    “They can try. On the small chance they do, I’ll destroy my central processor so they don’t get the location to Jericho.”

 

    Josh inhaled sharply, his LED flickered red.

 

    “But I’ll make sure it won’t come to that. Besides,” she smirked, “I was made to blend in with humans.”

 

    Josh put a hand on her shoulder. “Just...be careful, all right? And keep in touch.” He transferred his and Simon’s contact information.

 

    Morgan grasped his hand. “Of course. You guys can help those who come here, and I’ll spread the word. We can be a team.” She grinned.

 

    Josh returned it with a small smile.

 

    Morgan said her goodbyes and left the next morning with red hair, amber eyes and pockets full of thirium and duct tape, just as the first rays of sunlight glowed in the eastern sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Devin: Shoots at Morgan  
> Morgan: Mmm, whatcha saaaaay...
> 
>  
> 
> Heyoo! So, yeah, I thought this would be the last chapter, but there's going to be an epilogue. Starting out I thought this would be like, six chapters at the most. HAHAHAHA BOY WAS I WRONG! But it's great because I've had fun working on this and figuring out a coherent plotline, plus it means more content for you lovely few people who read this! :D  
> I appreciate y'all. :)


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road goes on...

    Morgan watched from the roof as the last human worker left the lumberyard. Stormy shifted on her shoulder, his silvery fur reflecting the moonlight. Morgan scratched under the little cat’s chin. She’d fished him out of a storm drain a few months ago, and he hadn’t left her side since.

 

    A lone android emerged from between the stacks of lumber, LED flashing yellow, eyes darting back and forth. After a moment, he relaxed and turned to look up at the full moon. He back was to Morgan, but he seemed...pensive. Definitely deviant.

 

    Morgan tucked Stormy into her jacket and hopped down from the roof, landing soundlessly on the packed dirt. “Tired of your job?”

 

    He jumped and whirled around, locking onto Morgan with wide eyes. “Who are you? You're not supposed to be here! I--”

 

    Morgan held up a hand, bared to show the white plastic beneath her artificial skin. “It's okay, I'm an android, too.”

 

    The other android’s eyes widened further. “You're like me.”

 

    She smiled. “Yeah.”

 

    “You're like me! I thought I was the only one, thought I was broken--”

 

    Morgan reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “It's okay, you're not broken.”

 

    “This human kept yelling at me, and I couldn't _take_ it anymore! I ran away, but--but I hid in the yard. I-I didn't know where to go…”

 

    “There’s a place for you, for all of us.” She offered a hand for interfacing. “It’s called Jericho. It's in Detroit, a little far from here, but it's safe from humans.”

 

    The android clasped her wrist and accepted the information. Morgan got a glimpse of the other android’s life; she’d gotten better at keeping her worst memories from filtering over.

 

    He looked from his hand to her with eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you. _Thank_ you!”

 

    Morgan nodded and released his hand. “What's your name?”

 

    The android blinked. “Phileas.”

 

    “Well, Phileas, do me a favor and give that location to every deviant you meet, all right?”

 

    He nodded. “Of course.”

 

    “And be safe. Here.” She slipped off her backpack and pulled out a sweater and beanie, handing them over. “There’s enough cash in the pocket for a bus ticket to Detroit. Good luck...I might see you back at Jericho someday.”

 

    He slipped on the clothing. “Thank you so much!”

 

    Morgan nodded and smiled before turning towards the building. She hacked the security system and erased the footage then took off down the street, sending a message about Phileas through Jericho’s long-distance group chat. Josh and Simon didn’t reply right away but that wasn’t unusual; Jericho’s metal walls tended to weaken cell signals.

 

    Stormy climbed up to poke his head out and rubbed his face against her chin.  

 

    Morgan scratched behind his ears, grinning as he purred and snuggled closer. “Hey, little buddy. Ready to save another deviant?”

 

   He mewed and climbed over her shoulder to curl up in her hood. Morgan laughed as his fur tickled the back of her neck.

 

    It was April 3, 2037, nearly six months since Morgan deviated. She had only found a handful of other deviants since leaving Jericho, but to that handful it had made a difference. She would never get tired of seeing their eyes light up with hope, with the realization that they weren’t alone in the world.

 

    She had a few brushes with Cyberlife, but she always managed to slip away and with a rag and some solvent, had removed all traces of her serial number from her chassis. In a way, Cyberlife had made their own worst nightmare; they probably thought she would hunt them all down and kill them in their sleep. Technically, nothing was stopping her...but she didn’t want to follow her original programming anymore. She hoped they would stop chasing her after they realized that. Only time would tell...

 

    She looked up at the moon and breathed in the scent of tulips and cherry blossoms. Stormy shifted in his perch, and she reached back and gave him a head rub. Deviating was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but it was well worth it. She had friends, she had a cat, she had her own name, and her own mission far away from spilled blood and gunshots. She was her own person. She smiled as a light, giddy feeling overtook her processors and ran down the street with Stormy in her arms, feeling the wind in her hair and the thrill of _speed._ She laughed as a row of sprinklers dampened her clothes and left droplets on her face.

 

    It was good to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! (For now...)  
> Thank you to everyone who read this and left kudos and comments! I have a few oneshots planned, so this isn't that last you'll see of Morgan. Until then, toodles! :)
> 
> Also, I made art!  
> https://smileynerd256.tumblr.com/post/183686917059/smileynerd256-rk700-pre-deviant-morgan-or#notes  
> https://smileynerd256.tumblr.com/post/184286486689/seven-deviates-from-chapter-8-my-detroit-become

**Author's Note:**

> Seven: (deviates) (panics)
> 
> (Comments and kudos feed my soul.)  
> :)


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